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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572002">Jedi Parables</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermint_Shamrock/pseuds/Peppermint_Shamrock'>Peppermint_Shamrock</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Children's Stories, Fables - Freeform, Gen, In-Universe Stories, Jedi, Jedi Culture, Jedi June</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:07:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermint_Shamrock/pseuds/Peppermint_Shamrock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Values are often passed down generation to generation through stories, parables, and fables. What stories might the Jedi teach their children?</p><p>Written for Jedi June 2020</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Character &amp; Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jedi-Friendly</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Stranded Jedi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Jedi June, I’m writing these short stories as if they were in-universe parables told to Jedi children to exemplify the values of their culture, since I wanted to show my appreciation for Jedi as a whole rather than specific Jedi characters (though I have plenty of love for those, too!). This first chapter is for the prompt “Compassion” - I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Jedi Master and her padawan crashed their ship on a remote planet. Unharmed, but stranded, they set off through the wilderness in search of civilization.</p><p>Local wildlife peeked out curiously at them as they went, but kept their distance; the pair of Jedi were untroubled by them as they passed through, until they happened across a small creature that did not flee from their approaching footsteps.</p><p>“Oh!” the Padawan cried, lurching forward as she realized that the creature was injured. Quickly, she took out her medpack and began tending to the creature’s injuries. Her Master stood by patiently, in silence. When the Padawan had finished her work and released the creature to shamble off, the Master spoke.</p><p>“Why did you stop to help that creature, Padawan?”</p><p>The Padawan blinked, confused by the question. “Should I not have?” she asked. Her Master held up her hand, palm facing front.</p><p>“I did not say that. I merely asked of your motivations.”</p><p>The Padawan considered for only a moment. “Because a Jedi must be compassionate,” she answered. “And healing the injured is compassionate. It was the right thing to do.”</p><p>Her Master nodded, pleased with the Padawan’s answer, and they continued on their way.</p><p>Some time later, they happened upon a farm. The family there welcomed in the traveling Jedi, offering a place to stay for the night. The weary Jedi gratefully accepted, offering what help they could in return. Though the Padawan was certain she could keep up with the adults, she was sent to help the children with their tasks and chores, while her Master helped the parents.</p><p>The children showed her what they needed to do, and together they set about their work. Soon, the Padawan noticed that one of the children sat off to the side and did not help, yet oddly, she sensed that he wished to, and none of his siblings seemed bothered by his lack of participation.</p><p>When she asked, with polite curiosity, what his job was, the other children told her that he was ill and could not work. And yes, now that they had drawn her attention to it, the Padawan could sense it – the disease that robbed the boy of his strength. Her heart went out to him for his suffering.</p><p>“Perhaps, while I am here, we can find a way for him to help,” she suggested.</p><p>With the Force, she supported what he could not, and so the boy joined in with a smile.</p><p>Later, after everyone had retired to their beds, her Master questioned her on this, too.</p><p>It took her a few more moments to respond this time, but the Padawan said, “A Jedi must be compassionate. But healing him is beyond my abilities and my supplies, so I helped him in another way. It may not have taken away his suffering, but it could make it a little easier to bear for a while.”</p><p>“Yes, Padawan,” her Master agreed. “Sometimes that is the best we can do. You showed wisdom in directing your compassion in a useful way.”</p><p>In the morning, they asked the family for directions, but instead the family offered to take them to the city. So they set out again, this time in the back of an old speeder, flown by one of the older children. They traveled for some ways before the speeder broke down.</p><p>While they set about attempting to repair the speeder, they were attacked by a band of opportunistic thieves. Master and Padawan ignited their lightsabers to deflect the blasterfire that rained down on them. Not dissuaded, the thieves continued firing, and a few slipped closer to the driver, who had left his blaster in the speeder and could not reach it to defend himself. But the Master anticipated that, and stepped to his defense, cutting through their opponents weapons, and in one case, a hand. When the thieves saw the damage that the Jedi’s weapons were capable of, they fled, jumping back into their own vehicle and speeding off.</p><p>They returned to repairing the speeder and under their careful efforts, the engine rumbled to life again. The Master’s insight told her that it would not survive the trip into the city, however, and she told their driver to return home, where he could fully service the limping vehicle. Reluctantly, he agreed, and so the Jedi continued on their path on foot.</p><p>Time passed, until they again came upon the thieves that had attempted to assail them earlier. The thieves’ speeder had crashed violently and had taken many of its occupants with it, their corpses half-hanging out of the wreckage.</p><p>The Padawan continued on, reflecting on how evildoing was always paid for in the end, but she had not gone far before she realized that her Master was not with her. She turned back, and hurried to her Master’s side as the woman approached the wrecked speeder.</p><p>With the Force, the Master cleared away some of the debris, and it was then that her Padawan saw what the Master had not missed earlier – among the wreckage, one still lived. The Padawan stared at his half-conscious form, noting that it was the one whose hand her Master had taken earlier.</p><p>When her Padawan made no motion towards the injured man, the Master stepped forward, pulling him out of the wreckage and carrying him carefully to clear ground, where she began to treat him with her own medpack. When she was finished, she turned to her Padawan.</p><p>“Why did you hesitate to help him?” she asked. “Is a Jedi not supposed to be compassionate?”</p><p>The Padawan lowered her head in shame. “Yes, Master. I know, but...” she trailed off, at a loss for words.</p><p>Her Master understood well enough. “Yes,” she said, her eyes softening even as her voice remained firm. “It is easy to show compassion to an injured animal, or a child, or to those who have shown you friendship. But to one who has attempted to do you harm? That is much more difficult. Yet, as Jedi, we must also offer those people our compassion, however difficult it may be.”</p><p>“But that did not stop you from cutting away his hand,” the Padawan pointed out.</p><p>“It did not,” her Master agreed. “Nor should it. Our compassion should not stop us from protecting others and ourselves – as you did yesterday, you must direct it into something useful. I recognize that sometimes I must cause harm – still, I always seek to minimize it, and I bear no grudge against this man. He has tried to harm us in the past, and he may try again in the future, but now, he is injured, and incapable of harming us even if he wanted to.”</p><p>“That is true,” the Padawan conceded. “I apologize, Master. I should have offered him aid just as I did with the others.”</p><p>“Remember this lesson in the future,” the Master said.</p><p>The Padawan resolved that she would.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This first chapter has been podficced by the crew of the Stranger Than (fan)Fiction podcast, who did a great job with it! You can check that out <a href="https://www.stffpodcast.com/episodes/cassette-series-4">here!</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Jedi Who Could Not Construct a Lightsaber</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the prompt, "Lightsaber". Please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once, there was a young Jedi who was very skilled in lightsaber combat. None of his peers could best him in a spar, and even many older Jedi found him to be a challenging opponent. He continued to train alongside his other studies, only pushing his skills forward more and more, and everyone found his dedication and talent to be an example to follow, but for one thing.</p>
<p>All of this, all of his training and sparring, was done with borrowed weapons. No matter what the young man did, he could not construct a lightsaber of his own. Either the parts would not fit together, or the crystal would shake and the blade flicker out immediately after lighting, or something would catch fire and explode.</p>
<p>This was a continual source of frustration and test of patience for the young Jedi, and as he neared Knighthood, he went to his Master and asked what he must do.</p>
<p>His Master considered the question carefully. In truth, he had been considering it for a long time, as he was aware of his Padawan’s struggles in this respect and had expected the question to come eventually if the Padawan was unable to figure out the problem on his own. And now that the question had come, the Master sat in quiet contemplation, reflecting on the possible source of the problem, and how much he needed to tell his Padawan in order to set the young man onto the path to discover it himself.</p>
<p>The young Jedi waited patiently, though not without nervousness, and eventually his Master spoke.</p>
<p>“I think, my apprentice, that you must find yourself before you can bring your lightsaber together. Go out into the galaxy and seek what you cannot see in yourself, and your lightsaber will come to be.”</p>
<p>The Padawan looked at his Master in confusion. “But I am right here,” he said. “I will always be wherever I am. How am I supposed to find myself any better somewhere else?”</p>
<p>The Master chuckled in fond amusement at the question. “Go, and you will find out, Padawan,” he said. “If you had been able to find yourself here, you would have already done so. A change of scenery will do you some good.”</p>
<p>“You will not come with me?” the Padawan asked.</p>
<p>“No,” his Master said. “This is a journey only you can take. May the Force be with you, Padawan.”</p>
<p>And so the young Jedi set out on his journey, a borrowed saber at his hip and the controls of a small starfighter under his hands. He let the Force guide him, traveling from planet to planet. And on every planet he tried once more to assemble his lightsaber, to no avail.</p>
<p>He still did not know what he was searching for, and the Force offered no answers, only pulling him with its currents.</p>
<p>One day, those currents led him to the shore of an ocean on a distant world. He gazed out at it, appreciating its beauty. But his ability to find peace in such things was becoming more and more difficult the longer his journey went on. He had been to many worlds, helped many people, and this had brought him some measure of joy, but underneath it all was the lingering issue of his lightsaber. He reminded himself to be patient, but his years of patience had not brought him any closer to his goal.</p>
<p>The waves in front of him began to churn more violently, and the young Jedi startled, wondering if his disquiet thoughts had disturbed the sea, for the sky remained clear and the breeze slight.</p>
<p>But the source of the disturbance quickly revealed itself not to be the young man’s thoughts, but a fearsome creature pulling itself out of the depths to break through the surface of the water. It was large, larger than any creature the young Jedi had ever seen, and water cascaded from its many limbs and back and head back down into the churning sea.</p>
<p>Caught by surprise, the young Jedi found himself struck by the creature and flung out into the deep water. But with his quick reflexes, he soon regained himself, leaping back out of the sea and igniting the borrowed lightsaber as he bore down on the creature. It swiped furiously at him again, but this time, he met it with a blow of the saber, and the creature let out a pained and angered howl as it bit through its flesh.</p>
<p>The Jedi plummeted towards the sea, but this time he was prepared as he hit the water. Though the floor had dropped sharply away from the shore, there were in places great boulders just underneath the surface, and it was towards one of these that he angled his fall. There, he could have solid footing, and though the waves crashed against him, at their lowest only his knees were submerged. He readied his stance, holding out the lightsaber for another blow as the creature lashed back at him. He fended the attacks off, striking and slicing as easily as he had done in training, as if the creature’s limbs were only the bolts of a training droid, or the sabers of his peers.</p>
<p>But it only served to anger the creature further, it’s lashing becoming more frenzied and unpredictable, and even as skilled a swordsman as he was, it eventually overwhelmed his defenses and struck the lightsaber from his hand.</p>
<p>He reached out, intending to pull it back to him, but the creature struck him again, breaking his concentration as he went flying again.</p>
<p>He scrambled again for another rock poking out of the sea, climbing up on it and shivering as the breeze brushed against the water droplets running down his skin. He looked up at the looming creature, and despite his training, felt nearly paralyzed at the sight of it. He was defenseless. How could he defend himself against such a creature without a lightsaber?</p>
<p>Desperately, he looked down to the sea, searching the waves for any sign of the weapon. But there was nothing. Nothing bobbing above the waves, no glint beneath the surface to draw his eye.</p>
<p>Only his own reflection, distorted and distended by the waves.</p>
<p>And in the face of that, in the gentle rocking of the waves breaking against his skin, he found calm again. He might die here, he recognized, and accepted. But he now realized that was true whether he had a lightsaber in his hand or not. And he might not die here, and that, too, was true whether he had a lightsaber or not. He had never had a lightsaber in the first place – not in the sense that mattered, the sense that reflected his soul.</p>
<p>But his soul, that, he <em>had</em>, and had always had.</p>
<p>The Jedi gathered himself up, and when the creature struck, he leaped up to meet it, imagining himself as his elusive blade and striking true.</p>
<p>The Jedi fell back down to the sea, and the creature stood frozen for a moment. Then it shuddered, and at once seemed to slip from reality, dissipating like mist. The young man stared in wonder at it, before recalling that he had, in fact, seen <em>only</em><span> his reflection in the waves – </span><span>nothing of the creature.</span></p>
<p>The water lapped up against him, and something brushed his skin. He looked down, and saw something glint in the water, and gently, he lowered himself to scoop it up.</p>
<p>It was not the lightsaber that had been lost to the sea, or even a part of it. But it was, unmistakably, a small and beautiful crystal that could be used to power one. The young Jedi marveled at it, running his fingers along its edges.</p>
<p>And then he turned and headed back to shore, at last ready to begin the construction of his lightsaber.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Learning is Lifelong</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not very satisfied with this one, but I'm going to do all the days regardless, so here it is. For prompt: Teaching/Learning</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Jedi had dedicated herself to study, learning all she could. She became an expert in many things, and was sought by people both within and outside of the Temple for her knowledge. But as time passed, she began to seek out more knowledge less and less – that drive for discovery fading into a confidence and certainty that she knew all there was worth knowing. Even, many Masters observed, when she shared her knowledge, she did not teach so much as <em>tell</em>.</p><p>This, of course, was a cause for concern, and so it was decided that she should be given a Padawan, so that she would have to learn to teach, and not merely tell.</p><p>She, of course, was unaware of this, so when presented with the child as her Padawan, she was confused. But she accepted – teaching a Padawan was a great honor, after all, and with all she knew, it wasn’t surprising to her that the Order would wish for her to pass that knowledge on more directly.</p><p>And so she took the boy on as her Padawan, to offer all she knew.</p><p>Unfortunately, she quickly discovered that the young Padawan was...difficult. Oh, he was well-behaved, certainly. But for all that the child sat quietly enough while she instructed him, he could not seem to grasp even the basic concepts no matter how many times she went over them. It was a source of frustration for them both.</p><p>“You seem troubled,” an older Master observed one day.</p><p>“My Padawan cannot learn,” she answered. Her companion raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Cannot learn? That’s rare enough to be unheard of. In my experience, anyone can learn, though sometimes they may need to learn to learn, first.”</p><p>She heard the gentle rebuke in those words, and lowered her head in acknowledgement.</p><p>“Learn to learn,” she repeated softly. “Perhaps I have forgotten that.”</p><p>“Forgotten? No. Just have further to travel up the path than you thought, I feel. Though, I suppose we all do, don’t we? That path continues on for us all.”</p><p>And with that, her companion left her to contemplate. She considered the words carefully, wondering how, with all she knew, she hadn’t thought of it.</p><p>Her friend was right – the path always continued on. They never stopped learning.</p><p>With that in mind, she returned to her Padawan and sat down beside him. “Ready to give it another go?” she asked.</p><p>“I suppose,” he said, not looking particularly thrilled.</p><p>“I’ll go through the exercise with you,” she said. “Perhaps we can learn from each other.”</p><p>He perked up, an expression of renewed interest on his face.</p><p>“We’ll get through this, Padawan,” she said. “Even if it takes us longer than we think it should; we’ll get through it.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Listening to the Force</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For prompt: The Force</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Jedi was instructing a small group of younglings.</p>
<p>“You must trust in the Force,” he said. “Let it guide you; listen to your instincts.”</p>
<p>This, of course, was what was taught to all Jedi younglings, and, like many younglings, some of them had questions for what this would mean to them. One such curious child raised her hand and asked, “How are we to know the difference between what the Force wants and what we want?”</p>
<p>“Ah,” the Jedi said. “That is always the difficult part, isn’t it? Even many my age still struggle to tell the difference sometimes.”</p>
<p>“But there must be a way to tell,” the youngling insisted.</p>
<p>“Yes, there is,” he said. “Though our understanding will always be imperfect, if you calm your mind and clear your head, you can identify both the Force and your own feelings, and find where they intersect. That is why when we act within the Force, we should be at peace with ourselves, so that our desires and the Force’s will are in harmony.”</p>
<p>“I say, ‘listen to your instincts’,” he continued. “But you should not confuse that for being <em>ruled</em> by them. For instance, if you are hungry, your instincts would tell you to get food. But if the only food around is in the hands of another, and your instincts rule you, you might attack and rob him for his meal. That, of course, is unacceptable behavior for a Jedi. But if you ignore your instincts, you will starve, and that, too, is undesirable. That is why you must listen to your instincts, and trust in them and the Force to guide you – perhaps you can persuade the other to share his meal. Or perhaps persuade him to show you where to find food for yourself. Or use the Force to find someplace else with food and keep your hunger under control until you reach it. In those ways, you can be in harmony with yourself, with him, and with the Force. Do you understand?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Master,” the younglings chorused, some nodding for emphasis.</p>
<p>“Hmm, perhaps,” the Jedi said. “But greater understanding will come with time. Still, you must remember this lesson well, younglings. The Force’s will is quiet, and, without clarity and control, elusive. Do not assume that just because you have done something or that something has happened to you that it was the Force’s will. We all must master ourselves before making such judgments – and even then, we will never have complete certainty. That is why we say to <span>trust </span>in the Force – when certainty is impossible, <em>trust</em> is necessary to keep moving forward, which is something we all must do.”</p>
<p>“Now,” he said, “let’s put this into practice. Remember, younglings, you must calm your minds...”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Three Padawans</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For prompt: Restraint/Discipline</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A timed obstacle course was set up for a group of young Padawans. One by one, they each attempted the difficult course, with varying results.</p>
<p>The first Padawan, possessing strength both physically and in the Force, eagerly threw himself into the challenge, barreling through the first few obstacles with ease. But he quickly grew tired, and found himself struggling, and he did not even reach the halfway point before time ran out.</p>
<p>The second Padawan lacked the strength of the first, but he was clever, and had watched the first Padawan carefully through his attempt and estimated where shortcuts could be taken. When it came time for the second Padawan to make his own attempt, he took advantage of his observations. He sidestepped several challenges, making good time through the course. When coming to a particularly strenuous part of the early course, he attempted his shortcut. But the previous obstacles had exhausted him, and he crashed to the floor as he fell short of his target. Time ran out before he could return to the course, and in the end, he got no further than the first Padawan had.</p>
<p>The third Padawan attempted the course. Lacking the strength of the first Padawan and the cleverness of the second, he approached with caution, working through the challenges slowly and methodically. He did not even get half as far as his peers before time ran out.</p>
<p>The Padawans returned to attempt the challenge again the next day.</p>
<p>The first Padawan again threw himself into the course, tiring himself against the obstacles to reach the same place he had before. The second Padawan attempted a different shortcut this time, but slipped on a different part of the course. And the third continued slowly, only making it a bit further than he had the day before, and still far behind his peers.</p>
<p>The third day came, and the first Padawan barreled into the course once more, making it further, but still falling short when time was called. The second Padawan managed to get himself stuck when attempting another shortcut. And the third Padawan only managed just a little bit further than he had before, still lagging far behind.</p>
<p>And so it continued, day after day, each Padawan continuing his strategy.</p>
<p>The first Padawan continued to charge forward, throwing all of his strength into every bout. He made it little further than he had during his first attempt, and with time, his performance began to worsen, much to his frustration.</p>
<p>The second Padawan continued calculating and taking shortcuts, his performance erratic and changing from day-to-day. Sometimes he would get stuck, sometimes he would miss his target, and sometimes he would find that his shortcut had taken him away from where he wanted to go. Some days he would go far into the course; others, he would end close to the start. Either way, he never finished before time was called.</p>
<p>The third Padawan continued on as he had, making it a bit further each day. His progress was slow, almost unnoticeably so on the day-to-day basis.</p>
<p>But gradually, he advanced through the course, becoming faster each day, until one day, he found himself at the finish line seconds before time ran out.</p>
<p>“How?” asked the first Padawan. “You are not as strong as I am, how could you make it further than me?”</p>
<p>“How?” asked the second Padawan. “You did not take any shortcuts that I could see.”</p>
<p>“It’s true,” the third Padawan said. “I am not as strong or as observant as either of you. But I could become a bit stronger and faster each day, and I could remember a bit more of the course each day. And a bit adds to a bit over and over until I could endure the whole thing.”</p>
<p>Belatedly, the other two Padawans realized their mistakes. The first realized that he had been expending his strength wastefully instead of honing it into something useful. The second realized that his efforts in finding more and more shortcuts ended up taking more time than it truly saved, and teaching him nothing in the end.</p>
<p>With these realizations, the Padawans approached the course again, committed to improving their time through discipline as the third had.</p>
<p>And with time, they did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. There is No Chaos, There is Harmony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for prompt: Meditation/Mindfulness</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Jedi sat alone in a vast city. The world around her was loud, and busy, and distracting. But even here, a Jedi could find her center. So the Jedi closed her eyes, and reached out, feeling the life around her.</p>
<p>
  <span>The world tumbled around the Jedi, the frustrations and desires of billions of sentients pulling on the Force all around her. But she looked beyond that, into the quiet spaces tucked away from bustling society – the personal gardens, the vast libraries, the resting chambers where beings were preparing for sleep. These places existed within the city, and within the Force, and within her. </span>
  <span>And in these places, the Jedi placed herself, their calmness becoming her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She breathed, and the city breathed too. The apparent chaos of the traffic below and above her was false – lives, brushing past each other, slipping around one another, pulling this way and that into a tapestry. It was not random, or purposeless – the city functioned because of it, because of all the individual parts moving in their own ways. It was beautiful, </span>
  <span>just as beautiful as the interconnection in more natural places – because even these urban places had a rhythm to them, and that rhythm resonated through the Force, and by extension, through the Jedi. And she resonated in it, a part of that rhythm just as it was a part of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Jedi reached out further, past the city and out to the planet’s surrounding countryside. She felt how it fed into the city and how the city fed into it, and then, further, more cities, smaller cities. All filled with life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she reached still further, feeling the planet as a whole, hanging in space as it circled a star. Ships, going to and from the planet, the Jedi felt as connecting lines to other planets, some close, some faraway. And she felt the galaxy as a whole as well as she felt her own form sitting there in place. Her own frustrations were distant, mixed in with those of the people of the city, of the planet, of the system, of the galaxy, no more or less significant than theirs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that distance, came clarity, and she could see her frustrations for what they were. With that sight, she could accept those frustrations. With that acceptance, she could let them go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with letting go, she found, in that moment, serenity.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Challenging Puzzle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is for the prompt: Symbiosis/Connection</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A puzzle was set out before a young Padawan. Through a mechanism the Padawan couldn’t see, the puzzle was constantly shifting, uniform blocks darting in and out and across each other, seemingly at random.</p>
<p>The goal of the puzzle was to make it still, through careful application of the Force to the shifting blocks. The catch, however, was that the blocks were linked together – stopping one would pull some blocks to a stop, but also set other blocks into motion.</p>
<p>It could be quite a frustrating exercise for the young Padawan, whose efforts seemed to be along the lines of “one step forward, two steps back”. She was certain there were now <em>more</em><span> blocks in motion than when she had started, and she was thoroughly unhappy with the result.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Her Master noticed her displeasure, and came to her side </span>
  <span>to observe her progress. With her Master there, the Padawan found it easier to let go of her frustration and return to the puzzle. But still, she could not seem to solve it. She did not want to disappoint her Master by giving up, but she was becoming convinced that it was beyond her capabilities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, her Master spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>“<span>Perhaps you should try another method, Padawan.”</span></p>
<p>“<span>But nothing I do makes a difference!” she said.</span></p>
<p>“<span>Nothing?” her Master asked. “I’d say that each thing you do makes a difference. </span><span>They’re just not the differences you want.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The Padawan accepted the rebuke, and lowered her head. “I don’t know what to do, Master,” she admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>“<span>Why do you think that your methods aren’t working?” he asked, sitting down beside her.</span></p>
<p>“<span>I don’t know,” she said again, then hesitated under her Master’s gaze. “Or...I guess, there are just too many parts? I can’t keep track of them all, I can’t find the pattern that makes one move and another stop. I don’t know the trick to it.”</span></p>
<p>“<span>What makes you think there’s a trick to it?” he asked.</span></p>
<p>“<span>Well, there must be,” she reasoned. “It’s a puzzle; there’s a solution. I just can’t find it.”</span></p>
<p>“<span>Is there only one solution? One trick that will make everything fall into place?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The Padawan frowned, uncertain of her answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her Master continued, “What makes the blocks move the way they do? What ties them together?”</span>
</p>
<p>“<span>Mechanics, I suppose,” the Padawan answered. “But I can’t see them. If I had a schematic, that would be one thing...”</span></p>
<p>“<span>Do you use a schematic for every problem, Padawan? Can you see all the factors moving under the surface in a negotiation, all the motivations driving the individual players?”</span></p>
<p>“<span>No, of course not,” the Padawan said, and realization was slowly dawning in her mind.</span></p>
<p>“<span>All of life is connected, Padawan, just as those blocks are, and you can’t always know the precise nature of those interconnections; how far the impact of one action can reach. Yet we must act all the same. So what must we do?</span></p>
<p>“<span>We must let the Force guide us,” the Padawan answered, with confidence returning. “We must consider the information we do have, and have faith that the Force will help us with the rest.”</span></p>
<p>“<span>Exactly, Padawan. Now try again.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>She did, turning back to the puzzle. This time, she did not focus on trying to figure out its underlying workings, or pick out a pattern. She merely trusted the instinctual guidance of the Force, directing her attention this way and that. Even when she misunderstood those instincts, and her efforts set back, with patience and perseverance, she eventually brought the puzzle to a complete halt.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Lesson on Attachment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For the final prompt of Jedi June, "Letting Go"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Jedi and her padawan were dispatched to resolve a local dispute on a faraway planet. Tensions between the affected parties ran high, and the Jedi found the necessity for their presence dragged out far longer than they had anticipated.</p>
<p>That did not trouble either Master or Padawan, however, as the Master understood the value of calm and patience, and did not let the slow proceedings sway her to frustration.</p>
<p>Her Padawan, while less calm and less patient than his Master, also found ways to let go of his frustration with the obstinance of the people they were trying to help. For in the moments of downtime, in the periods where negotiations were suspended to let everyone calm down, he had discovered interesting wildlife – small, friendly animals that he had never seen before.</p>
<p>“They’re indigenous to the planet,” his Master said, noticing his curiosity. “There isn’t that much information about them, perhaps we can study them while we are here.”</p>
<p>The Padawan took eagerly to that task, finding it a welcome break from the negotiations to observe the creatures and ask the locals about them. He discovered that the locals often took the small creatures as pets, bonding with them easily. In the course of his investigations, the Padawan, too, befriended one of these animals and found himself greatly enjoying its presence and mutual fondness.</p>
<p>But time passed, and eventually the two Jedi were able to guide the negotiations to an amicable solution, and the time came for them to depart. The Padawan was reluctant to leave behind his animal friend. He knew that it would miss him, too, when he left.</p>
<p>His Master was sympathetic, but firm. “These creatures are delicate and unique to the planet,” she said, unyielding to her Padawan’s pleading eyes. “They will not thrive outside of their home environment; would you condemn your friend to that?”</p>
<p>Reluctantly, the Padawan shook his head.</p>
<p>“Cherish the bond you have made, Padawan,” his Master said. “But you must not cling to it, or you will only bring harm to you both.”</p>
<p>The Padawan agreed, knowing that his Master had wisdom. But later, alone with no one except the creature with its sorrowful, distressed eyes turned on him as he prepared to leave, he could not bring himself to go without it. So, without his Master’s knowledge, he hid the small animal away on their ship, along with samples of the local vegetation that the creatures fed on. The Padawan convinced himself that he would be able to sufficiently analyze that vegetation and come up with an adequate substitute. He told himself that he would be able to care for the animal, and make up for taking it from its home.</p>
<p>For a short time, he was successful. He was able to construct a diet to ensure that the creature got all the nutrients it needed, to keep it fed and healthy as it settled into the Padawan’s quarters.</p>
<p>But though the creature still responded to the Padawan with warm affection and comfort, it slowly grew more lethargic and weak. Worried, the Padawan rigged up a terrarium and lamp to mimic the planet’s natural radiation and atmosphere. But even that did little to stop the creature’s decline, and eventually it began to refuse food altogether.</p>
<p>At a loss, and knowing that the creature’s life was worth more than avoiding a lecture, the Padawan went to his Master and admitted his misconduct. She was, as he expected, deeply disappointed in him, but she was able to request a ship and take them back to the creature’s home planet, where they put it into the care of a local who could nurse it back to health.</p>
<p>“Do you see, now, why you should’ve left the creature behind to begin with?” the Master asked.</p>
<p>“Yes, Master,” the Padawan said unhappily. “I didn’t mean to hurt it! I thought I could care for it...it didn’t want to leave me, either!”</p>
<p>“But leaving was necessary, Padawan. It was never yours to keep – no living creature is. Your efforts to hold onto an impermanent experience only caused suffering, and in exchange for what? A few more weeks of companionship? Was it worth that price?”</p>
<p>“No, Master,” he said, ashamed.</p>
<p>“It is a harsh lesson to learn, I know,” the Master said. “But an important one. Consider it fortunate that the creature did not deteriorate so quickly that your actions claimed its life. But you did cause it suffering that could’ve been avoided, and <em>that</em><span>, you should reflect on. This will not be the last time </span><span>you will be tempted to hold onto impermanence, but if you have learned anything from this, perhaps it can be the last time you </span><em>give into</em><span> it.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The Padawan nodded. He would remember this lesson, as difficult as it was.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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